Uke France x Reader
by That Star In The Sky
Summary: You weren't like the average female. You preferred to be in control and lead the reigns in the bedroom. That being said, do you actually manage to have your way with Francis Bonnefoy, the most perverted and dominant one of them all? And if you do, what were to happen if you actually began to develop feelings for him, during intercourse at that?


You weren't like the average female. Whilst the other members of your gender stuck to the stereotype of being the submissive one in a relationship, you liked to be in control. Whether it be who decides what job each partner was to be assigned for school projects, to choosing what channel to watch on TV, or dominating during sex, you always favoured a firm grasp on others and being the boss. That is why your boyfriends (and girlfriends) were quite shocked when one thing led to another and you two were getting steamy in the bedroom. While the aspects in your personality indicated that you were sensually controlling, you usually acted very kind, and as we all know, the warmhearted ones are usually the people getting their holes filled with cum. As if that wasn't bad enough, you were also a huge pervert. Seriously, you were as bad as a horny teenager. It's almost like you were a male put into a chick's body.

Anyways, a perfect example of this is the tale of when you met Francis Bonnefoy. The year was 2015 and you were desperate for some action but single at the moment, so you decided to go to a bar to get laid. Boy or girl, you didn't mind, you just really needed a release. You went to the most run-down yet popular establishment you could find. While you were really anxious to get down to business, you were still picky. You didn't flirt with just anybody. Only the individuals who caught your eye qualified for your affections, and so far, everyone there was yet another face in the crowd.

Sighing dejectedly, you gulped down another pint of beer and cupped your hand so it could rest on your flushed cheek. Usually someone would appeal to you by now. Maybe it just wasn't your lucky day.

Suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn your head and your eyes widen in shock. Standing before you is the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. Beautiful golden locks that seemed to bounce with every movement he made, just the right amount of stubble, and stunning aquamarine eyes you could drown in; damn was this guy hot. You licked your lips and felt a smile tug at the corner of your mouth. Maybe you were more fortunate than you thought.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he says in an accent. Shit, he was foreign too? Bonus! "I cannot help but notice that a beautiful lady such as yourself is sitting all alone. May I buy you a drink?" You blush and grin. "Of course." You finish the rest of your beer and order the same thing he does; wine. Well damn was he fancy. You expected him to get whiskey or something.

After you two take your first sips you ask, "What's your name?"

"Mon nom est Francis Bonnefoy. Et vous ?" He seemed to be testing you. That is when you were grateful you took French class in high school.

"Je suis (y/f/n) (y/l/n). Ravi de vous rencontrer." Always good to be formal. When he beamed you knew you passed the trial.

A couple of drinks later and you two were flirting like there was no tomorrow. Fast forward an hour later and you and him were at his condo. As soon as he unlocked his door and you both were inside, you pushed him against a wall and brought your lips to his. His initial surprise wore off and he wasted no time in returning the affection. However, when his tongue fought for dominance and you put up a fight, his shock seemed to return. He raised an eyebrow and gave you a look. It appeared to be a mixture of amusement and arousal with a pinch of annoyance. That didn't deter you. Fuck that, you were going to ride him like there was no tomorrow whether he liked it or not (that sounds rape-y but let me assure you that you'd stop if he really wanted you to). You weren't a slut, you just liked to have sex a lot. A huge difference between the two, k. Besides, despite your controversial hobby, you happened to be quite the academic individual.

The kiss became more heated and your tongues clashed, both of you adamant on continuing to fight for the reigns. However, it seemed that neither of you were willing to give up, and so the battle continued. Eventually Francis got fed up and broke away. He brought his attention to your neck and raised a hand to your chest. Before he could leave any hickies or give your bosom a squeeze, you smacked his hand away and pounced on his jugulars. You sucked on the tender flesh with the perfect amount of pressure to leave a mark. Meanwhile, your own slender digits were tracing the outline of the bulge in the Frenchman's jeans. Francis seemed to tense up at this. Was he really that unfamiliar with being the one on the receiving end? Apparently so, for right after you thought that he gently pushed you away.

"Ma chérie, is it alright if you let me be in control?" he asked nicely. You pursed your lips and made it seem like you were deep in thought for a second.

"Hmm. Ah…no." You smirked and almost laughed when you saw his smile wilt like a dehydrated flower. You couldn't help it, this was just too entertaining. You weren't that intoxicated, it just how you were; you had a childish sense of humour and side to you, just like that Russian guy you fucked a couple of months back.

The blond gave you his best look of seduction and asked once more. You were really close to giggling this time. Did he honestly think that would work on you? Hell no. You used the same exact tactic to poor souls all the time so you were immune to his brainwashing charm. When Francis realized this he looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. You assumed this situation has never occurred to him before. That realization made you even more euphoric. You loved making men question everything they've ever known by your strange yet alluring behaviour.

A heavy sigh escaped him and he seemed to finally throw in the towel, much to your delight. You've won yet again. The only time you didn't get what you wanted was when you stumbled upon creeps who tried to have their way with you no matter what, aka, rapists. Thankfully you've always had consensual sex but the fact remained that even this seemingly unbeatable Frenchie had bowed down before you. You basked in your glory and practically drowned in your overwhelmingly large ego before remembering the task at hand.

You asked Francis to lead you to the bedroom, too fixated on your lewd fantasies to pay any attention to his stunning decor as he led you through his small but impressionable condo. Once you arrived to your destination you pounced. He sat on the bed and you crawled on top of him. (E/c) eyes sparkled with lust and excitement as you hungrily gazed at his crotch. The man noticed this, subsequently causing his protruding dick to become even more noticeable through his pant fabric. You unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers in record time. You merely admired his hard (and very large) member for a moment before putting your mouth on it. You heard a moan emit from the Frenchman and you felt adrenaline begin to course through your veins. You grasped the shaft and used your tongue to swirl around the tip, eliciting wonderous noises to escape him and causing your joy to grow even more. After giving him an out of this world blowjob for a few minutes you halted. Francis was near his limit and you could tell he was disappointed that you stopped, not like you cared though. That was the fun of it. The best part of doing anything sexual was making your partner wait in agony to cum. You went painfully slow when you pleasured someone. Alright, so you maybe you were a bit of a sadist, but where's the harm in that?

Right after you stepped away from his throbbing member it was your turn to be surprised. Your partner for the night had pushed you to the bed and was straddling on top of you.

"I hope you do not mind, mon couer, but I must be the one in control. That is fine by you, non?" Your eyes were slits and anger replaced the prior cheerfulness you felt only a few moments ago. If there's anything you despised, it was people who couldn't admit defeat. What a stubborn mule Francis was. Why couldn't fate let you get what you want?

You sat there in contempt as he hastily took your clothes off. You helped him undress himself as well. Once you both were in the nude you decided to strike. There's something else that was different about you from most girls. You were extremely brawny. Even in middle school you were the strongest female in your grade. However, you loathed the fact that you were much weaker compared to the boys, and so, you began to work out. While you did have some impressive biceps, it was practically impossible to tell how fit you truly were. You liked that fact. It made it all the more fun to see men's reactions when you lifted them off of you with ease (that is why you've never been raped).

A sharp intake of breath was taken by the blond as he was practically thrown off of you. You snickered and topped him once more. You felt him thrash beneath you and you broke into a full-out laugh. He must have a big ego or afraid of being dominated. You saw by his expression that he clearly thought you were insane but no matter, as long as you got what you came for you didn't care what his opinion was. It's not like you would see him again after tonight anyways.

"Je vais vous monter si dur que vous ne serez pas capable de sentir votre pénis pendant un mois," you whispered in his ear. You felt him stiffen and soon splutter incoherent words. He definetely was not expecting that one. You giggled and began to leave butterfly kisses from his collar bone all the way to beneath his belly button. You glanced at him and gave a genuine smile. Not one that made you look like a basket case but one that made you seem calm and beautiful. In turn, this caused Francis' eyes to soften and he relaxed. He ruffled your hair and bore a toothy grin. Your heart began to race and a warm feeling settled in your chest from the gesture. You felt anxiety settle in soon after. What was hell was that all about?

(H/c) tresses bobbed up and down from the action you were currently doing (shaking your head to clear up those dangerous and unprecedented thoughts). He was conspicuously staring at you. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and you looked away. So there you two were for a miniscule amount of time; you on top of him and the both of you avoiding eye contact. Finally you sighed and gazed into those blue depths. You had to finish what you started.

Pushing away those trivial things called feelings, you began to grind against him. Francis moaned and bucked his hips, begging for more. You slowly lost speed until you were completely frozen. Expectant eyes bore into your own set of orbs and you gave him a look, one that said 'Don't worry, I'm not done yet. The best is yet to come.' He clearly catched your drift and nodded eagerly. You decided to initiate the final act here and now. Normally you'd go slower than this but for some reason you didn't want to agonize your partner today. You...you wanted to make the Frenchman happy.

…Wait, what? Did you really just think that? You just met the guy! Why the fuck were you showing signs of being in love? It made zero sense. Therefore, you refused to think about it any longer. Screw feelings, you had a blondie waiting to be fucked.

"Are you ready?" you murmured. He let out a small 'Oui.' Before you could ask him about condoms, he seemed to read your mind and grabbed one from his bedside table. Once he put it on you felt an odd sensation creeping its way into your being. For some reason you felt nervous. You had done this countless times in the past with far more intimidating individuals, so why feel apprehension? You wanted to bash your head into his wooden bed frame. This was seriously pissing you off, not to mention confusing the crap out of you as well.

Hiding your true mixed feelings, you managed to plaster a dazzling and sexy smile on your features and got down to business. You positioned yourself accordingly and bent down, biting your lip as you felt the familiar hard object penetrate you. As if it was what you were born to do, you began to cautiously move up and down. It didn't hurt you anymore, you've done it far too often for that, yet it didn't feel pleasurable either. You knew from experience it would start to feel mind-bogglingly great soon enough though.

It supposedly already felt fantastic for the man beneath you. He was grunting and moaning and bucking his hips. He was looking at you with admiration and lust in his sky blue depths, yet if you were to gaze intently enough, you would have caught concern, too. Francis could read people very well. He knew that something was wrong, however he didn't think he knew you well enough or that this was the time to ask of your wellbeing.

Gradually gaining speed and causing the blond to make even louder sounds than before, you started to notice that a warm and delightful sensation was beginning to form. It went from your lower stomach to your crotch and soon enough you were moaning and gasping out lewd phrases as well. You could feel his member pound your walls and the hedonism becoming so fierce that it was out of this world. About five minutes later you were nearly at your limit.

"I-I'm going to cum—" Too late. Francis already beat you to it. You didn't feel it due to the rubbery material that was the condom but you could tell from the way he reacted. A second later and you did too. It felt as if a dam had been broken inside of you and was now leaking out its entire contents. You two were struggling for breath, hot and sticky and on cloud nine. You began to stand up, pulling him out of you at a snail's pace, and lay down next to him. He grasped your face to give you a feverish and rough kiss for a minute or so before you pulled away. You were exhausted.

The last thing you saw before drifting off to sleep was Francis' heartwarming smile.

And so, after that night of passion, you never saw Francis again; that is, until you ventured to the same bar two weeks later to release some sexual tension. You didn't want to admit it but you were hoping to see him again. You missed him for some reason. You almost squealed when you saw a man with beautiful golden locks that seemed to bounce with every movement he made, just the right amount of stubble, and stunning aquamarine eyes you could drown in...

Let's just say that round two was just as enjoyable as the first.

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I hope you enjoyed the fic! I've never written smut before so I apologize if the actual sex scene seems cruddy. If I made any French errors feel free to tell me. Likes and comments are always appreciated and thank you so much for reading!  
ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ

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 _French translations:_

1\. Bonjour, Mademoiselle = Hello, Ms.

2\. Mon nom est Francis Bonnefoy. Et vous ? = My name is Francis Bonnefoy. And you?

3\. Mon nom est (y/f/n) (y/l/m). Ravi de vous rencontrer = My name is (y/f/n) (y/l/n). Nice to meet you.

4\. Ma chérie = My dear.

5\. Mon couer = My heart ((endearing term)).

6\. Je vais vous monter si dur que vous ne serez pas capable de sentir votre pénis pendant un mois = I'll ride you so hard you will not be able to feel your penis for a month.

7\. ((K you obviously know what this one means but I'm saying it anyways.)) Oui = Yes.


End file.
